


Snippets and Abandoned Works in the AVLS Universe

by calathea



Series: A Very Long Summer [12]
Category: I Want To Go Home! - Gordon Korman
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calathea/pseuds/calathea
Summary: As much as I love the AVLS universe, I'm almost certainly not going to write in it any more. Before I leave it behind, though, I decided I would dump all the little extra pieces I wrote for this universe, most of which are unfinished. They range from a snippets few hundred words long to a few thousand words long. I will not be continuing any of these, so if you have a horror of abandoned WIPs, read no further!





	1. The Thing That Came Before AVLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This "news article" fic is the first thing I ever wrote in what became the AVLS universe. I wrote it, and then I wrote A Very Long Summer to explain how they got from the end of the canon to the point of the new article.

Rudy Miller asked us to meet him at the track. As instructed, I wore running shoes, and a waterproof jacket I added after taking a look out of my window that morning. When my photographer and I arrived, the rain was falling hard enough to hurt, and a fine mist of spray hung over the field. I was certain Miller would turn out to be sheltering in the small building attached huddled next to the track, but just as we reached the doors, a lone figure trotted around the track towards us, his dark hair plastered to his head, and waved for us to join him. 

Reluctant though I was to brave the wind and rain, this was Rudy Miller, three time Commonwealth Champion, World Champion, winner of nine Olympic Gold Medals over three consecutive Games, holder of three World Records, one of which is still undefeated, five years after his retirement from the field. Rudy Miller, who rarely gives candid interviews, despite his near-legendary status as one of Canada’s great sporting heroes. I joined him on the track. 

“I’m nearly done,” he told me, as we circled the track at an easy pace. “We might as well start while I cool down.”

He may be retired, but Rudy Miller clearly still takes his physical fitness seriously. He is as sleek and muscled as I, and thousands of other spectators all over the world, remember from his last appearance on the track as a competitor, in his third Olympic Games. I ask him if he misses running competitively. He just smiles. “No. I was tired. The fans were great, the rush when you won, but the training, the constant battle against your body, I’d had enough. This” he waves a hand dismissively around the facilities of the suburban athletic field we’re on “is the only arena I want to run in these days. I like to keep in shape.”

We jog back to the hut, and I admire the shape he’s keeping himself in while he bends and stretches for a while, apparently unaware of the stinging rain soaking his thin t-shirt and shorts. He suggests that we go back to his home, and we follow his SUV, watched out the back window by a large golden retriever in the rear of his vehicle. He introduces us to the beast when we arrive at his home, an older townhouse in a comfortable, but not overtly wealthy, Toronto suburb. The retriever’s name is Jack, and he has a cast on one rear leg. “Normally he run with me,” explains Miller, “He insists on coming along, even though he has to stay in the car.”

The dog sniffs us cautiously, then staggers off towards the rear of the house. Miller invites us into his living room, and then excuses himself to change out of his damp clothes. The room is comfortable, with large leather armchairs drawn around wood-burning fire. Books and papers are stacked on the tables, photos of people, obviously family and friends, on the mantelpiece. There is no sign of the medals, trophies and awards that this great athlete must have collected over the course of his career. 

Miller comes back down in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still damp. The dog follows, and lies down with an exhausted sigh at Miller’s feet. “We’ve lived here a long time,” Miller tells me in answer to my question, “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. When I was competing, I was constantly on the road, in and out of training camps. It was always at the back of my mind though, that I would eventually come home, and home was here.”

He looks around the room. “We should probably paint in here though. We’re just so busy.” He shrugs. 

I take this as my cue. Miller needs no encouragement to talk about his work. “I’m coaching some amazing kids, these days.” His voice is warm with pride. “Daniel [Davis] is going to go all the way this year, I know.” Davis, for anyone who has not been paying attention to the sporting press over the last year, is Miller’s protégé, a phenomenally talented young athlete making his mark in the middle distances that Miller himself dominated for so many years. “He’s so keen to do well. It’s never a case of encouraging Daniel – more about holding him back from trying to do too much.”

He goes on to talk about the young people he coaches in sports for the disabled “The first time they asked me, I said no. What did I know about coaching these kids? They deserved someone who really knew what he was doing. But someone told me I should give it a try. The first day, they strapped me into a racing wheelchair, and a twelve year old beat me around the track.” He grins at the memory. “You might have heard of her? Eileen Wilson. She won two gold medals at the last Paralympics.”

He is fierce about the status of Paralympians. “These are sportspeople, just like I was, yet the funding level is appalling, the recognition they receive so much less that they deserve. Even getting decent facilities to coach the kids is a struggle sometimes. I do what I can, everyone involved does what they can.”

I ask him about the rumours that he once considered a career in something other than sports. “I considered a few things, but in the end, I loved to run.” Miller smiles again. “I spent a lot of time running away from running, until I realized how stupid that was.”

It’s almost ten by now, and he gets to his feet and offers us coffee. We all head into his kitchen, including Jack, whose damaged paw thumps against the wooden floor with every step. 

The kitchen is bright despite the grey weather outside, and he pours coffee for four. I raise my eyebrows, but he doesn’t explain. Just as he offers us cream and sugar, the back door bangs, and Dr Michael Webster, Miller’s long-term partner, comes into the room. He is wet, and the first few minutes following his arrival are marked by cheerful confusion and swearing as the dog attempts to greet him, slides on a patch of water dripping from Webster’s jacket, and almost fells the man.

Webster himself is tall and thin, his dark hair curling from the damp, and his eyes tired. Miller silently hands him coffee, and he disappears upstairs, presumably to shed his wet clothes. “I heard his car. He’s been out since before dawn.” Miller explains, “Baby case.”

Miller says nothing more, and I ask him where he keeps his medals and trophies in the silence that follows. “In the basement, next to my gym,” he answers. We are shown down to the basement, and given a glimpse into a practical, well-equipped exercise room, and a small room with shelves and glass cases filled with Miller’s many awards for sporting excellence. “My dad kept a lot of this stuff,” he tells me, pointing out trophies from elementary school track and field competitions, and 1st place ribbons from somewhere called Camp Algonkian Island. “I’d get rid of them, but Mike thinks it’s funny, so we hang on to it.” 

Here too is a picture of Miller running around the track at his last Olympics, just after he won final gold medal of those Games, a Canadian flag wrapped around his shoulders, another flag in his hands. “I remember that victory lap.” Miller tells me now. “It’s one of the few that I do remember. Normally I was so high on adrenaline by that point, it was all something of a blur. That lap, though, I was so tired, it felt like my feet were made of lead. That was when I decided to retire.”

There are other photos from throughout his athletic career. “Mike took a summer off, came over with me.” he says, pointing to a photo of the two of them at his first Olympics. “After the Games were over, we hung around for almost a month just seeing the sights.” In the shot, Miller is wearing all three of the medals he won that year, his face as always calm and unperturbed. Webster is beaming, his face pink and flushed. 

We head back upstairs, and find Webster flicking through paperwork in the living room. Dry, he looks even more tired, but he greets us cheerfully. His face is mobile, his smile ready and warm, a sharp contrast to Rudy Miller’s trademark calm. I ask him how the two of them met. “At summer camp when we were thirteen.” Webster immediately responds, and then adds “Oh my God, don’t put that in, people will think we were incredibly precocious.”

He laughs. “But we really did meet at camp. We were best friends for years, and we grew up, and somewhere along the line, we fell in love.”

Webster is a doctor, with a practice in the local suburbs. “Thank heavens I’m not allowed to treat my spouse,” he says, mockingly, “Rudy’s awful when he’s sick.”

Miller rolls his eyes at these gibes, but does not move from his seat on the arm of Webster’s armchair. The relationship between the two men was common knowledge throughout most of Miller’s career. I ask him whether it ever caused any problems. “There were a few people uncomfortable with it, I suppose. We tried to ignore it when the press got hold of the story the first time. Our families, our friends, they all already knew, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

“There was some hate mail, that kind of thing.” Webster offers, “But Rudy was in the public eye, we knew that was always something that could happen.”

He pauses, and looks up at his partner. “These days, we’re just two guys living in the suburbs. People don’t care so much.”

We break then for photographs, and Miller allows himself to be posed in various places around his home. Jack the dog insists on joining in, but Webster refuses to be photographed, laughing at Miller’s outrageous threats of reprisals for making him suffer alone. While Miller is out of the room, I ask Webster about the pressures of living with a sportsman. “Well, it’s tough at family barbeques, because everyone fights to have him on their team at touch football.” He grins. “I’d never get picked, except that my nephews have worked out that Rudy always ends up on the same team as me. They’re willing to put up with me bumbling around the field if they get him too.”

He sobers. “The hardest thing was the travelling. I had my own career, and a doctor’s practice isn’t very flexible. Luckily we could plan a long way ahead for the really big events, like the Olympics, but it was rough when we were keeping our relationship going over the phone, or when I’d find out he’d been injured on the other side of the world at some event.”

We hear Miller return, and Webster stretches, and tells us he needs a nap. “I have surgery in a couple of hours,” he says, as he excuses himself. He shakes hands politely, and pauses by the door for a low-voiced conversation with his partner, who touches Webster on the shoulder as he leaves the room. 

Coming to the end of the time Miller has allowed us, I ask him where we can expect to see him next. “The last five years have been incredible,” he tells me, “And I’m hoping the next five will be just as good.” In addition to his coaching, Miller is branching out into sports journalism, and maybe even an autobiography. “For the moment, though, nothing that takes me too far away from Toronto.” 

This is bound to disappoint many sports fans, who raved over Miller’s stint as a commentator in the most recent Olympics. “It was fun,” Miller says now, “Fascinating to be on the wings for the first time.” He denies though that he is in talks for a permanent position with a sports network. “Athletics events take place all over the world. I enjoyed the globe-trotting life-style when I was younger, but after a few weeks away, these days all I want to do is go home.”


	2. Rudy Is In Montreal And Homesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what the point of this was other than like, Mike is bad at trigonometry, and Rudy is homesick.

Mike was supervising homework in the kitchen when the phone rang, so he let David answer it while he and Xav struggled on manfully with the future tense in French.

" _Nous serons_ ," said Xav dubiously, filling in a blank on his homework sheet.

"Now make up a sentence using the verb," read Mike from Xav's sheet. "Uh."

They looked at each other blankly.

David walked into the room, holding the phone receiver to his ear. “Are you still in Montreal?” he was asking, “How much longer are you going to be there?”

Mike raised his eyebrows at him questioningly, and David mouthed: “Rudy.”

Andy and Xav looked up, homework forgotten. Mike tried but, he admitted to himself ruefully, probably failed to look just as excited. 

“Oh,” David was whining, drawing the syllable out, “Why did you have to go to stupid Quebec anyway?”

He was silent for a few moments while Rudy spoke, then, in a changed tone said, “Nothing much. I tried out for soccer, there were two other guys there for centre so I said I could play wing as well.” David paused in thought. “Mike helped me with my math homework and I got a C. He says he doesn’t like triangles.”

At the table with Xav, Mike rolled his eyes and David stuck his tongue out at him.

“I ripped my new pants,” David continued, “’Cause I got in a fight when I had to hit a guy.”

There was a long silence. David shuffled his feet nervously and refused to meet Mike’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s what Mike said. Yeah, I know.” He listened again for a while, then sighed deeply. “Yeah, I promise. I’m going to give you to Andy now.”

David passed the phone over to his brother and went to sit by Mike. “He said not to help with the triangles any more.”

Mike laughed, and ruffled David’s hair. “What else did he have to say?”

David shrugged, picked up his pencil and began to sketch a right-angled triangle in his math homework. “Just stuff, you know, about not fighting,” he said, trying to sound unconcerned, but with a thread of uncertainty in his voice.

Mike watched him for a second, then turned back to listen to Andy, who was saying something about Speech Day. “I want to do a speech about aliens.” He doodled absently on his notebook while Rudy talked. “Oh. Yeah, Mike said that he thought a lot of guys would do aliens too. Will you help me think of something else? When are you coming home?”

Andy frowned at whatever answer Rudy was giving. “Oh.” 

He listened again. “Yeah, okay, Xav wants to talk to you. Bye for now!”

Xav snatched the receiver from his brother’s hand and, glaring at everyone, walked into the pantry and closed the door behind him.

“What did Rudy think about the speech?” Mike asked, when the muffled sound of Xav’s voice could be heard on the other side o the door.

Andy sighed in a put-upon manner. “He said the same thing you did – everyone will do aliens.” He flipped over a few pages in his binder and picked up a pen. “He said he would try to think of some good ideas.”

Mike ducked his head and grinned. The room was quiet for a few minutes, except for the almost inaudible murmur of sound from the pantry. David sketched another triangle. Andy nibbled the end of his pen and frowned over a question in his geography homework.

The door to the pantry swung open, and Xav held the phone out to Mike. He reached for it eagerly, but before he could put it to his ear, Xav said, “He’s gone. He said he would call you late tonight.”

“Oh,” said Mike, pretty sure from the sympathetic expressions on their faces that his disappointment was visible. “Well, good.”

Xav slid into his seat next to Mike and picked up his pencil.

“What did Rudy say?” asked David, curiously.

Xav just hunched a thin shoulder at his brother and did not look up.

He started writing. “ _Nous serons…_ ” he started, out loud, “ _Nous serons heureux quand Rudy retourne chez nous._ ”

* * * * * 

It was almost midnight in Vancouver when Mike’s cellphone started to vibrate its way across his bedside table, and ‘RUDY’ came up on the caller display. Mike winced as he flipped open the phone, wondering what had kept Rudy out so late in Montreal.

“Hi,” he said, tiredly, “I’d almost given up on you.”

“Hello,” said Rudy, sounding equally exhausted. “Sorry about earlier. My taxi arrived while I was talking to Xavier. I thought I’d better not phone the house so late, wake up the kids.”

Mike lay back on his pillows and stared at the ceiling. “They’re getting suspicious, you know, because we always agree on everything.”


	3. Rudy Meets His Protege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be Rudy meeting the future super star of Canadian athletics, a.k.a the son of one of the kids who was at camp in AVLS.

Despite the cooling flow of air from the vent in the dashboard, he felt sticky and hot. He pulled at his tie and collar.

“Don’t mess up your tie, Stephen.” his mother said, mildly, from the rear seat. 

“It’s choking me,” Stephen said, tugging at it again. “Are you sure he’ll really expect me to be wearing a tie?”

“It can’t hurt to make a good impression,” his mother said, patiently.

“But _Dad’s_ not wearing a tie,” Stephen said, resentfully. It was not the first time he had voiced this complaint.

“Your father already knows him. He doesn’t need to make a good first impression.” His mother’s patience was audibly wearing thin.

Stephen’s father grinned. “I blew my only chance of that a long time ago,” he said, winking at his son.

“Are you _ever_ going to tell me how you know him?” Stephen asked for what felt like the thousandth time. 

His dad was saved from replying by his mother. “I think this is the turn.” She rustled the directions in the back. “Yes, turn right here.” She leaned forward and pointed to a narrow road, barely visible between large trees. Moments later the car was rolling to a stop outside a large, rambling house surrounded by yet more trees. Two vehicles were parked on the driveway: a decrepit looking car with a St Joseph’s High School sticker on the bumper, and a sleek and shining sports car in crimson.

Stephen wiped his sweaty hands on the side of the car seat.

“You ready, kid?” his father asked, smiling at him. Stephen bit his lip and nodded, even though he felt sick with nerves.

They climbed out of their car. “Well, it’s certainly a beautiful house,” his mother said, prosaically, as they walked towards the front door. “I wonder if he has a gardener.”

Stephen stepped carefully over a roller skate, abandoned in the middle of the path to the door. Up ahead of him, his father rang the doorbell. Stephen quelled the sudden urge to run back to the car and drive away, and hurried to catch up. 

The door opened. “Yeah?” A scrawny looking kid looked up at them through huge glasses. 

“Uh.” Stephen’s dad seemed taken aback. “I have an appointment,” he began.

The kid rolled his eyes. Turning to look over his shoulder he yelled, “There’s some people at the door for you.”

Stephen heard an indistinct reply in the background. The kid sighed. “Well, I don’t know!” he yelled back. He turned back to look at them. “He’s coming,” he said, and then shut the door on them again.

A moment later the door opened again. “Okay! Okay!” the kid was saying, “Geez. Come in.”

His mother and father stepped into the house. Stephen drew a deep breath, and walked through the door behind them. The kid had disappeared, and a tall, dark man was shaking hands with his father. 

“It’s been a very long time, Davis,” the man was saying, before greeting Stephen’s mother. At last he turned to where Stephen was standing, still just barely inside the house. 

“And you must be Stephen,” said Rudy Miller, and reached out to shake Stephen’s hand. “I hear you want me to be your coach.”

 

Stephen was glad to sit down again a few minutes later, after their host had shown them into a large sunny room at the back of the house, and disappeared to make coffee for Stephen’s parents. He sank gratefully into an armchair next to his mother, and took a shaky breath. 

The house wasn’t what he had expected at all. He had thought it might be like the houses that football stars and basketball players lived in that they showed on MTV. This was just an ordinary kind of house, just maybe a bit bigger. The room was kind of messy, with books and magazines all over the tables, and big, shabby-looking pillows on the leather sofas. There weren’t any medals or trophies anywhere, just photos of ordinary looking people hanging on the walls. A large dog was asleep in a patch of sun by the window. Stephen was almost disappointed, even as he admitted to himself that it was a lot less intimidating that the shiny high-tech palace he had been expecting. 

Rudy Miller came back into the room carrying a tray with coffee. “Did you get the e-mail from Gabe?” Stephen’s father asked, as Miller poured coffee and handed it around. “About the wedding?”

Miller nodded. “We met his fiancée last time we were in Toronto. They had matching purple hair.”

Stephen’s father laughed. “That sounds like Gabe. If we can park the kids with their grandparents, we’re planning to go the wedding.”

Stephen’s mother nodded. “She’s a lovely girl and her dress is bound to be spectacular,” she said, “Marrying a fashion designer.”

Bored, Stephen stood up and wandered over to look at the photos while they continued to talk about people he didn’t know. Most of the photos seemed to be school portraits, just like in his own house. Gap-toothed children beamed at him out of the frames. A few photos were of Miller and another man, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with a bunch of kids. He wandered on, disinterested, until he came to an abrupt halt.

“Why have you got a picture of Sam?” he said, interrupting the chit-chat going on behind him. “Where was this taken?”

He pointed at his brother in the photo, one of a group of boys standing under a huge banner. His father stood up and came over to look at the photo. “Oh, wow,” he said, “Look at the _haircuts_. I can’t believe you keep this on your wall where people might see it!” 

Stephen frowned and looked at the photo again. He didn’t think his brother had ever had his hair cut like that. He didn’t recognize any of the other boys in the shot either. He didn’t think Sam had ever been anywhere called Camp Algonkian Island. “That’s not Sam, then?” he said, uncertainly.

His dad laughed. “Nope. That’s me.” He grinned down at Stephen. “This is how I met Miller,” he said, “See?”

He pointed to one of the other small figures in the shot. Gazing blandly out of the shot was a young Rudy Miller, familiar from Stephen’s scrapbook of images of the man’s successful Olympic career. “You met at _summer camp_?” he said, his voice embarrassingly squeaky with surprise.

“You mean your father never told you about the Great Saran Wrap Incident?” said Miller, placidly pouring another cup of coffee and moving a pile of cookies onto a plate next to it.

Stephen’s dad laughed and dropped his arm over Stephen’s shoulders. “He and Sammy have quite enough ideas of their own, thank you,” said Stephen’s mother, dryly, “Without Chris encouraging them.”

Miller’s eyes gleamed as he sat back in his seat. “I’m delighted to hear it,” he said, steepling his fingers together and raising an eyebrow at Stephen’s dad.

Stephen’s father laughed again, then shepherded his son back to their seats. As they settled themselves once more, there was a sudden commotion at the door, and the other man from the photos walked in. He was tall, and quite thin, and his dark brown hair was windblown and messy. The lazy dog, which had barely opened an eye when Stephen and his family came in, came slowly to his feet, stretched, and went over to greet the newcomer. 

“My partner, Mike Webster,” Miller said, sitting forward again and retrieving the gently steaming cup of coffee and the plate of cookies. The man looked up from the dog.

“Davis!” he exclaimed, cheerfully, “I didn’t realise that was your car outside. And Elizabeth, how are you?”


	4. Jeff Miller Meets His Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be Jeff meeting his future wife and step-sons. Jeff's kids only appear in the text of the AVLS universe when he describes them as being like velociraptors.

Jeff met his wife in the second semester of his first year at university. He'd been turfed out of his room _again_ by his appalling room-mate, who, despite being basically one step removed from a Neanderthal, seemed to have a different woman in his bed every other night. Jeff couldn't understand the parade of women, because he was pretty sure none of the women in _his_ life -- from his mother to his sort-of-sister-in-law to every woman he'd ever been friends with -- would never have given Don, his caveman room-mate, a first look, let alone a second. 

"Do you think he's drugging them?" he asked Mike one evening, when he was hanging out in Mike's tiny apartment off campus after being sexiled yet again from his dorm room. Jeff was always glad he and Mike get along, and not just because he'd spent way more time at Mike's place escaping his room-mate's sexual hijinks than he ever expected to at the start of the year.

Mike hummed thoughtfully and then went back to sorting socks into pairs. Mike was the only guy Jeff knew who actually sorted his socks and didn't just leave them in a jumbled heap, but he didn't dare tease Mike about it again after the threat of (unspecified) reprisals from Rudy after the _last_ incident. "I suppose he's good looking if you like the overhanging forehead type," Mike said, after a moment. "Not my type though."

Jeff sighed and flopped back on Mike's bed. "Glad to hear it," he said. "Since he's a homophobic jerkwad, anyway. Ugh."

Mike made a sympathetic noise. "I have to go back to the laundry room. Get yourself a drink or something, okay?" he said, and picking up his basket and a roll of quarters, left the apartment. Jeff sighed out another breath. Mike couldn't really understand the problem, he decided, since his room-mate when he lived in dorms had been a super quiet kid who went home to his family every weekend, worked long hours in the library and had approximately the same standards of neatness as Mike. Mike had had it easy, and then he'd moved into a house he'd shared with way too many other people for Rudy's taste, and then finally into this shoebox of a studio which Mike seemed to love and Rudy appreciated for lacking people he didn't like, i.e. everyone who wasn't Mike.

Jeff's idle daydream about getting his own place next year was interrupted by a soft tap on Mike's door. Jeff frowned, and stood up. He'd seen Mike pick up his keys on the way out, so it wasn't Mike, and as far as he knew, Mike didn't have any friends in the building. He felt kind of weird answering Mike's door for him, and this doubled when, looking out, he found that the person knocking was a small child in pyjamas with ducks on them.

"Um," he said. The kid sucked his thumb and stared up at him with huge brown eyes. "Hi?"

The kid waved with the hand not in his mouth. "Are you looking for Mike?" Jeff asked, feeling stupid, but the kid nodded. Jeff crouched down to his level. "He's gone to do his laundry. Do you want to wait?"

The kid seemed to think about this, but then nodded.

"Okay," said Jeff. He dithered. He didn't want to keep the kid in the hallway, but on the other hand, he didn't know if Mike let kids into his apartment. The kid settled his internal debate by plopping down to sit on the floor with a sigh. He continued to stare at Jeff. 

Jeff sat down too. "Do you hang out with Mike a lot?" he asked, and the kid scrunched up his nose thoughtfully, before shaking his head. "But you came over anyway?"

The kid nodded. "Mike's my friend," he said, finally, around his thumb. "I love him."

It took Jeff a moment to work out what the kid had said, but once he deciphered it, he blinked. "Uh, okay," Jeff said. He smirked, because there was no way he was going to let Mike get away with having pint-sized fans, no matter what Rudy thought. Luckily, before his evil grin could get too big, there was a commotion by the stairs, and first Mike, holding a basket of laundry, and then a woman maybe a couple of years older than Mike holding a second, even younger, child appeared in the archway that led to Mike's apartment. 

"Jon!" she said, looking relieved. "What did I tell you about running off?"

The kid -- Jon -- ducked his head. "Don't," he said, still muffled by his thumb. "But I wanted to say g'night to Mike!"

The woman looked harassed. "You only get to say goodnight to Mike on nights when he's babysitting," she said. 

Jon looked mutinous and his lower lip stuck out. "But--" he started, and Jeff was sort of starting to fear that there was about to be a major emotional scene in the hallway, when Mike intervened.


	5. Xavier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At one point I really wanted to write Daniel and Xav's story, and I made two attempts. This was the first, from Xav's point of view, and it was meant to be structured in five time lapse pieces the way I wrote a lot of the epilogues. I wrote two of them showing Xav's POV for various AVLS events, but then I got really bored and gave up.

PART 1:

Since he was six years old, there were only three things in the world that Xavier Heath was certain of: his parents were never coming back; his brothers would always take care of him; chocolate was good and vegetables were gross. 

Right at this second, Xav was contemplating a new entry on his list: he never wanted to wear a suit ever again. 

"But Mike," he whined, tugging at the collar, "The tie is strangling me. Do I really have to wear it?"

Mike looked at him exasperatedly. "Xav, seriously, if you ask me that again, you aren't going to need to worry about the tie strangling you." 

Xav sighed, aggrieved, and slumped further into his seat. "I just don't see why I have to wear a tie. The cousins aren't wearing ties."

Mike ignored him and fiddled with a cufflink, before turning to smooth down his jacket in the mirror.

"You look good," said David, coming in. He bit into a doughnut and then mumbled: "Rudy says ten minutes. He’s ready, and Jeff is waiting with him downstairs so you can go out together."

"Oh, God," said Mike, looking alarmed. "Seriously? I thought I had longer."

David licked his lips to catch all the powdered sugar smeared there, and sat down next to Xav, offering him the other half of the doughnut silently. "Yup," he said, "It's crazy out there. Rudy said to say if it isn't in ten minutes, he's going to be too busy being arrested for killing Jeff for it to happen at all." 

Mike spun away from the mirror. "What's Jeff…? No, actually, don't tell me." He shrugged uneasily. "I really don't want to know."

Mike turned back to the mirror and adjusted his jacket again. “Okay,” he said, breathing out shakily, “Wow. Okay. I’m ready. This was my idea. It’ll be fine. I wanted to get married.”

David stuffed the last of his doughnut in his mouth and rolled his eyes comically at Xav, who grinned back. “Jeff said to tell you not to open his present in public,” David said, sucking sugar from his fingers noisily. 

“All right,” said Mike, distractedly, “Wait, what?”

“He said, don’t open the present from just him in public. But you can open the other one,” said David, shrugging, “And then Aunt Lisa smacked him on the head.”

Mike closed his eyes. “What am I doing?” he said, wiping a hand over his brow, “What was I thinking?”

David started laughing. “That’s just what Lisa said!” he said, and then stood up, turning around to pull Xav to his feet as well. “Come on, or Rudy might explode.” 

Mike glanced back to the mirror one last time. “Do I look all right?” he said, running his fingers through his hair. 

Xav came up beside him to look in the mirror too. “You look great,” he said, soothingly. 

Mike smiled at him in their reflection, and Xav seized his chance. “Do I really have to wear this tie?”

*.*.*.*.*.*

Hours later, Xav had to climb half way up a tree to get a quiet moment away from the chaos. The back yard of their house was full of people – kids were running around screaming and jumping in and out of the pool. There were adults scattered around in groups, eating finger food and talking and laughing. He knew a lot of them, of course. Some of them he saw all the time, like the other doctors from Mike’s clinic, and Rudy’s personal manager, and others, like Rudy’s mom (who insisted they call her Grandma Liz, even though she was of course no relation at all) were regular visitors. Some of the other people were pretty weird though – one whole group of people had presented Mike and Rudy with a really ugly beaver. A dead beaver, that is, one that had been stuffed, and mounted in a case with a fake tree. Mike had turned so red laughing that Xav had been worried he might be having a heart attack.

So far the day had been a lot of fun, and Xav had eaten about six burgers from the barbeque, and he and David and Andy had been photographed a lot and then allowed to go get changed, so he wasn’t even being strangled by his tie any more. Now that he had had a little break, he was ready to go back to join the party. He could see Andy by the pool, probably looking for him, and he was about to climb down from his tree when Mike and Rudy appeared from the back of the garden and paused beneath him. The murmur of their voices was very soft, but he could just hear them. 

“… you for this,” Mike was saying, “I thought we would just do a thing, at the town hall or whatever.”

Rudy said something that Xav didn’t catch. “No,” Mike said, and Xav could tell he was smiling. “This is amazing.”

“Good,” said Rudy, more loudly. He reached out and took Mike’s hand, and from his perch in the tree Xav could see the glint of gold on Mike’s ring finger. “I didn’t know I wanted this. Not until you asked.”

Mike’s voice dropped low, and Rudy shifted towards him suddenly in response to whatever he had said. Xav, leaning forward to try to overhear, dislodged some bark and a couple of leaves onto the two men below, and they turned and looked up, their smiles white against their summer tans when they spotted him. 

“Hello,” said Mike, “Andy was looking for you. Have you been up there long?”

Xav grinned back, and swung down to the ground. “No, I just wanted, you know…” he trailed off. “I’m going to go find Andy.”

Rudy nodded. “They’re putting dessert out, too,” he said, and Xav saw that he was still holding Mike’s hand, his thumb moving gently over Mike’s ring. 

Xav smiled again, and started to walk away. The guests all seemed to be converging on the buffet tables, and some of the little kids were already running around again on a sugar high. He glanced behind him. Mike and Rudy were still close together, and he looked away again quickly, and waved at David, who was standing waiting for him with two huge bowls of something that looked rich, gooey and full of chocolate.

Xav had had very few certainties since he was six years old: his parents were never going to come back; his brothers would always look after him; chocolate was good and vegetables were gross. He’d seen more of people and families than anyone would have expected, and today he had realized something else: the life Mike and Rudy had made, the life they had welcomed Xav and his brothers into, was something special, something Xav wanted for himself one day.

PART 2:

Mike was loading cans of Coke into the new fridge in the apartment over the garage when Xav came up the stairs with the last box.

“Want one?” Mike asked, and tossed a can to Xav when he nodded before opening one for himself. “Rudy’s gone to pick up pizza from that place you like. Is that the last of the boxes?”

“Yeah, I saw him leave,” Xav looked around at the boxes stacked everywhere, at the packaging from the new furniture that had arrived that morning. “God, I hope that’s everything,” he said. “This place is so great, Mike. Really. I don’t know… I don’t think…I don’t know how I can say thank you.”

Mike just shrugged. “You don’t need to think of a way,” he said, and looked around at the kitchen with a pleased expression. “You’re all set in here, anyway.”

Mike went through into the small living room and moved a pile of coats off the sofa and onto the floor, before sitting down with a sigh. “Who knew you had so much stuff?” he said, stretching out his long legs in front of him and looking at the piles of boxes stacked in the room.

“You said the exact same thing a few weeks ago when you and Rudy moved us into the dorm room,” Xav said, dropping down beside Mike on the sofa. “You must be losing your memory in your old age.”

Mike poked him in the ribs. “Careful,” he said, warningly, “Or your refrigerator privileges at the main house will be revoked.”

“Oh, well,” said Xav, squirming away and grinning, “Have I mentioned how extremely youthful you are for a man with three sons away at university, lately?”

Mike laughed, and subsided back into his seat. They sat in silence for a moment, Mike drooping tiredly in his corner. Xav watched him and fought to screw up his courage.

“Mike,” he started, finally. “You won’t mind if…”

“Hmm?” said Mike, opening his eyes and looking at Xav enquiringly when he trailed off nervously.

“You won’t mind if I come back late, and stuff?” said Xav, at last. “I mean, even if I didn’t like the dorm, I liked studying in the library and there’s stuff I do, in the evenings.”

Mike blinked at him, obviously taken aback. “No, Xav, no, of course not,” he said, reassuringly, “We said, from the start, that’s why we did some work in here, so you could be independent and come and go as you like.”

Xav nodded, only half listening. “It’s just, I have a thing, someone,” he said, disjointedly, “In the evenings. And class, sometimes, and stuff with David.”

Mike nodded, and reached out to tug Xav closer. “Of course you do,” he said, wrapping an arm around Xav’s shoulder. “Totally up to you what hours you keep and where you go. That’s why we left David in the double on campus on his own. You can stay over with him some nights if you want, like if the weather’s bad, or there’s a party. If you change your mind about living there, we’ll just move you back. We needed to fix this place up anyway, makes no difference to us.”

Xav nodded and let Mike tug him in a for a brief hug.

There was a soft noise behind them, and Rudy came in carrying pizza boxes. “Food,” Mike said gratefully, letting Xav go. “I’m starving.” He reached out for the pizza box Rudy held out to him. For a few minutes they juggled boxes and shared slices around, Rudy making disparaging remarks about Mike’s greediness and the likely impact of all the pizza on his waistline. Mike ignored him cheerfully.

“So,” said Mike, a few minutes later, chewing blissfully “Who’s the someone you see in the evenings?”

Xav blinked and choked on his pizza. “Who? What? How did you…?”

Mike laughed. “You said you have someone you see in the evenings. And David told me you had a new friend that you hang out with at the library.”

Xav felt himself blush red. “It’s… it’s just. I mean. We’re not…”

“Must be someone pretty special to make you blush like that,” teased Mike, and laughed when Xav turned almost puce with embarrassment. “Oh, crap!”

His laughter had somehow dislodged his pizza topping onto his lap, and he hastily picked up the stringy cheese and tomato off his jeans. Rudy rolled his eyes at Xav, and handed Mike his napkin. Mike waved it away and headed through the bedroom door towards the bathroom.

“At least he didn’t get it on your new sofa,” said Rudy, loudly enough for Mike to hear. “You should tell him he’s not invited to dinner if he plans to fling food around.”

The bathroom door slammed shut and Xav giggled.

There was a moment’s silence and then Xav said. “I go to the library, and have coffee,” he started, fumbling for words again. Rudy looked at him blandly and took a sip of Mike’s Coke.

“It’s…He’s someone I met, at the library. He works there, part-time, and he comes in to study with me other days,” said Xav, finally, “I like him.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Rudy, his voice as gentle as it ever was. 

“No, I mean, I wanted to,” said Xav, and put down his piece of pizza, leaning forward so that he didn’t have to meet Rudy’s eyes. “I wanted to tell you, and David, and Andy. It’s just… This is something new, and I didn’t want to… I didn’t know how to say: I met someone, and he’s great. And we’re just friends, but I like him. And he’s a guy.”

“Just like that,” said Mike, from the door between the bedroom and the living room. Xav knew if he looked up, Mike and Rudy would be having a whole conversation with their eyes, so he looked down at his pizza. “Or you say, hey Mike, butt out,” he added, and Xav looked up at last to meet his eyes, and found Mike grinning. 

“Hey Mike,” Xav said, his voice creaking, after a long pause, “Butt out.”

Mike laughed, and came over to glare at Rudy. “You’re in my seat,” he said, jabbing balefully at Rudy’s knees. “And you’re eating my pizza!”

“You forfeited it when you started throwing food around Xav’s apartment,” said Rudy, smoothly, and picked up another slice. 

Xav went back to eating his pizza, enjoying the ridiculous by-play between Mike and Rudy. Neither of them said anything more Xav’s friend until after they had finished eating and made inroads into the chaos of Xav’s living room. Mike left first, saying he had to check the answering service at the clinic. “Come over for breakfast,” he said, as he said good night. “I’m not in until late, I’ll make you pancakes to celebrate your first night over here.”


	6. Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This last snippet is the biggest. This was my second attempt to write Xav and Daniel's story, this time from Daniel's POV. Really, though, I apparently only wanted to write Daniel's coming out story and the epilogue, because I never made any progress on the middle section. Still, I wrote 7500 words of it before I was done, apparently? I have no plans to write any more of this.

It was three days after graduation, and Daniel, Trevor and Alison were lazing around in Alison's back yard talking about the scariest thing in the world: the Future.

"Where do you think we'll be in five years?" Alison asked, blowing on a dandelion clock to make the seeds float away. Alison's cat, Peanut, chased after them, pawing comically at the air. 

"I'll be a famous lawyer, of course, wearing fancy suits and being paid millions just to to give an opinion," said Trevor, in a tone that suggested that of course being famous within five years was a given. "And you'll be designing amazing skyscrapers and living in one of those apartments all in white with huge scary paintings on the wall, and Daniel..."

He paused, and Daniel looked up from braiding long pieces of grass together to grin at him. "Daniel will be on the verge of marriage, with two dogs and a white picket fence," Trevor said, smirking. "Oh, and he'll be a vet of course, fearlessly saving pet bunnies from pain."

"I won't even be finished with vet school in five years," Daniel protested, laughing, not wanting to touch the comment about marriage.

Alison had no such qualms. "And what will his future husband be like, oh great oracle?" she asked Trevor.

Daniel looked down at the grass to hide his smile at the easy way she said that, _husband_ , and felt a wave of love for them both, the friends who knew him best.

Trevor was pretending to commune with the spirits or something equally stupid. "Good-looking, of course," he said. "And smart, because Danny likes his guys smart _and_ beautiful."

Daniel laughed at Trevor as he preened ostentatiously with those words, his epic crush (epic according to Trevor, at least) on Trevor a long-standing joke between them. 

"And funny and cute and awesome," Alison finished, with a grin. "Because he deserves a guy who is all of those things."

Daniel felt the heat of a blush rise up his face. "So do you," he told Alison. "So do both of you."

Trevor shuddered. "Ugh, no," he said. "No college guys for me! Now, cute college _girls_ , on the other hand..."

Alison poked him in the arm. "Are just the same girls you went to high school with this year, only a few months older," she pointed out. 

"Shhh," Trevor said, scowling at her. He closed his eyes. "Mmm, college girls," he said, dreamily.

"College boys," Alison countered, with a smile at Daniel.

Daniel grinned back at her. "Just the same guys you went to high school with except a few months older," he reminded her. 

She frowned at him. "Trev's right, that is a downer," she said, pulling blades of grass out of the ground and pretending to pout.

"Well, there's the older students," offered Daniel, placatingly. "And the grad students. And the professors."

Alison laughed. "Yuck, old guys with tweed jackets with leather patches on the elbows. Oh yeah, gotta get me some of that," she said.

"Five years from now," Daniel said. "Maybe they won't seem so old and yucky."

Alison looked at him skeptically. "Maybe I should have specified _young _and cute and awesome," she said, poking Daniel in the thigh with her toes. "Unless you secretly have a thing for tweed and leather patches?"__

__"Um, not really," said Daniel, laughing. "I'm just saying. We'll be twenty-something by then, you know? Who knows what we'll be into."_ _

__"I'm never going to into guys wearing tweed," said Trevor firmly. "Not even girls wearing tweed."_ _

__"You never know," Daniel told him. "Maybe some tweed-wearing super-hottie will seduce you onto my team. After all, your first kiss _was_ with a guy!"_ _

__"Never to be spoken of!" Trevor yelped, lunging for him. Daniel dodged out of the way, laughing. Trevor collapsed flat on his stomach. "Let that be consigned to the.... where do you consign things that are _never to be spoken of_?" he asked Alison._ _

__Alison rolled her eyes. "Hell?" she said._ _

__"It was a very nice kiss," Daniel protested, smirking. "If you ever need a reference for a first kiss---eep!"_ _

__Trevor lunged again, this time catching hold of Daniel and clapping a hand over his mouth._ _

__"Never to be spoken of!" he said again, but Daniel could feel him shaking with suppressed laughter. "And, as if I need a reference."_ _

__He sniffed disdainfully, and let go of Daniel, rolling on to his back and looking up at the sky. Daniel lay back as well. It was a perfect day, just one or two tiny puffy clouds wandering across the deep blue sky. Alison lay down on his other side and they were quiet for long moments._ _

__"I know it's super corny," Alison said. "But let's agree to meet here in five years, okay? And we can see if we were right or wrong."_ _

__"Is this where we swear to be friends forever?" asked Trevor. "Ooh, do I get a friendship bracelet? Or one of those hearts broken in two, and we'll only know one another by putting it together and chanting the magic word?"_ _

__"Um, Trevor," said Daniel. "Have you been reading your sister's books again?"_ _

__Alison laughed, and Trevor half-heartedly dug an elbow in his side. "She likes me to read to her, okay? Though I think it's just the same book over and over with different covers," he said, glumly. "She just laps it up though. I worry about that kid."_ _

__"She's only eight," Alison said. "She'll get over it."_ _

__"Mm," said Trevor, dubiously. "I hope so."_ _

__"Anyway, no you don't get a bracelet," said Alison. "But don't you think it would be fun to meet here again on this day in a few years?"_ _

__"I thought your parents were moving house?" Daniel said. Alison elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow, stop it. I'm going to be one big bruise by the time I go home."_ _

__"Don't be so literal, then," Alison said, sniffing. "Five years, okay? We'll meet up."_ _

__"This is stupid. We're going to see each other all the time," Trevor said. "It's not like we're not going to come home for vacations and stuff."_ _

__"Trevor," Alison whined._ _

__"Alison," Trevor whined right back._ _

__Daniel sighed._ _

__"Oh, whatever," said Trevor. "Fine. Five years from now, somewhere. We'll meet up and see if we were right, if I'm a lawyer and Alison's an architect or on her way to being one, and Daniel is shacked up with some old guy in tweed."_ _

__"What? No!" Daniel said, laughing._ _

__"With some old guy in tweed, and two dogs," Trevor said, as if Daniel had not said anything. "All ready to be a child bride."_ _

__"No!" Daniel said, though neither Trevor nor Alison paid any attention to him._ _

__"I don't think you can be a child bride if you're like twenty-two," Alison said, critically._ _

__"You can if the guy you're marrying is sixty," said Trevor._ _

__"Sixty!" Daniel said, and Trevor leapt to his feet before Daniel could grab him and ran away laughing. Daniel gave chase, and for a few minutes chaos reigned, with Alison shouting encouragement, and Peanut, outraged at being awakened from a nap, yowling and getting underfoot, and Alison's dog, Butter, running out the house to bark at them and join in, and finally, Mrs. Thompson, Alison's mom, emerging from the house to laugh at them and scold them for all the noise all at the same time. Eventually though, they all settled down again, and Alison's mom went inside after everyone apologized for the fuss, and the dog and cat lay in a companionable, panting heap next to Alison._ _

__"Child bride stuff aside, five years from now?" Alison said, her expression determined._ _

__Daniel and Trevor shared a grin at her familiar persistence. "Sure, why not," Trevor said. "I'll treat you all to lunch on my millions. Or Daniel's old..."_ _

__"Not another word," Daniel said, warningly._ _

__"Daniel's future husband," Trevor amended, smirking. "If he's rich enough, he can pay for lunch."_ _

__And just like that, as if the promise set the seal on the day, the afternoon was over. Trevor had to go home to babysit his little sister, Alison's mom had already reminded her they were due at her grandmother's for dinner and Daniel had to work that evening. Their good-byes were as casual as ever, though Alison's hug seemed fiercer than usual, and Trevor lingered to talk a moment longer when they walked to his car. Daniel waved to him as he drove away, wincing at the crunch of gears -- Trevor was still not used to the standard transmission on the car his parents had bought him for graduation -- and headed for home himself, just a few short blocks away from Alison's house._ _

__***_ _

__Later on, Daniel found that everything after that day in Alison's garden blurred together in a haze of lasts and firsts -- the last summer before he went to college. The last parties where all the people he'd been to school with since kindergarten were all together, still some kind of unit: the Class Of. Last days lazing around with Trevor and Alison. Last meals at home, last night in his own bed while the future rushed towards him, way faster than he was really prepared for it to happen. And then it was all firsts: his first night in dorms, the dizzy rush of too many people and too many parties and too many germs that meant he started all his classes with a hangover and a streaming cold, both, he was pretty sure, the first of many._ _

__Daniel joined the LGBTQ Campus Alliance during his first week at UBC, but it took him another two weeks before he worked up the courage to go along to a get together. He'd walked past the meeting room a couple of times the previous week, but it had seemed full of loud enthusiastic people who knew each other and were talking about stuff that Daniel knew nothing about. He had walked past a couple more times, but it just got more crowded and more intimidating every time he went by, and in the end he just gave up and went back to his dorm. After a long-distance pep talk from Alison, he decided to go along earlier the next week, thinking it might be easier to walk in when there were fewer people in the room. He walked past, but seeing just a handful of people in the room was suddenly struck by the fact that this could actually be worse. What if they didn't talk to him? What if they all stared? He had slowed down as he approached the room, but now he started to accelerate his pace again, running away again even as he cursed himself inwardly for doing so. Before he could move far enough down the corridor to get away though, a guy headed in the opposite direction stopped him with a hand on his arm._ _

__"Hey," the guy said, smiling. He looked older than Daniel by at least a couple of years, maybe more. "Are you looking for us? This is the LGBTQ Alliance."_ _

__Daniel stared at him, dumbfounded. "I saw you looking into the room last week," the guy said, still smiling, obviously interpreting Daniel's surprise correctly. "And, you know, rainbow badge." He flicked a finger at the badge Daniel had half forgotten Alison had pinned to the messenger bag she'd given him as a going away present._ _

__"Um," said Daniel. "Yes. I just. I don't know anyone."_ _

__"Well, I'm Jon," said the guy, Jon, and his smile broadened, showing white teeth and dimples. Daniel smiled back, almost involuntarily. "And you are?"_ _

__"Daniel," Daniel said. He held out his hand, but rather than shaking it, Jon took it, and pulled him into the room. There were maybe ten people inside now, chatting and drinking coffee in thick white mugs._ _

__"I found someone shy outside," he announced to the room. Everyone turned to look, and Daniel, feeling too horrified by this turn of events to do anything else, raised a hand in a particularly feeble wave._ _

__"Well, you're not going to make him less shy that way," another guy said, rolling his eyes. "Leave him alone, Jon."_ _

__"No," said Jon, and tucked Daniel's hand into the crook of his elbow. "Come on, David..."_ _

__"Daniel," Daniel said._ _

__"Sorry!" Jon grinned at him again. Helplessly, Daniel smiled back. "Come on, _Daniel_ , I'll introduce you to everyone."_ _

__Jon held his hand, literally and figuratively, through the next half hour, and gradually Daniel relaxed, starting to feel less out of place when he realized a lot of the people there were freshers too and just as nervous and uncertain as he was. Jon cheerfully introduced everyone by all the wrong names, accepting the corrections with good grace. "Not my best skill, remembering names," Jon confided to Daniel as they moved away from another group of people._ _

__"I won't ask what you think your best skill is," the same sarcastic voice that had told Jon to leave Daniel alone interjected._ _

__"You already _know_ what my best skill is," Jon said, winking at Daniel before he let go of Daniel's hand and turned to greet the owner of the voice. Jon and the newcomer could not have been more different. Where Jon was tall and well-groomed, with dark skin and dark hair and a permanent smile on his face, he looked irritable and frankly, a mess. He was pale, skinny and no taller than Daniel, drowning in multiple layers of shirts and an overly large sweater. His hair stood on end comically. He rolled his eyes at Jon's innuendo._ _

__"Are you done holding hands with the new kid?" he asked._ _

__Jon cocked his head thoughtfully, pursed his lips, and looked Daniel over from head to toe. "I think so," he said. "Daniel, this is my boyfriend, Marc. Marc, this is Daniel, he's from a speck on the map in the middle of nowhere like you."_ _

__Marc looked marginally more interested. "Yeah? BC?" he asked._ _

__Daniel nodded. "Yeah, out east of Kelowna," he said. "Three thousand people in my town."_ _

__Marc raised an eyebrow. "That's a metropolis compared to where I grew up," he said, with the smallest of smiles. "Manitoba. Farm country, you know?"_ _

__Daniel nodded. "Sure. Even so, Vancouver is... it's really different."_ _

__"I bet," said Jon, sympathetically. He gestured at the room. "This is more gay people than you've ever seen in your life, right?"_ _

__Daniel looked around the room, which was now half full. "Oh yeah. You guys alone are more gay people that I've met in my life. I mean, that I knew about, anyway," he said._ _

__"But you said to, I don't know, the girl with the giant boots, that you were out in high school, back home in Nowheresville," Jon asked, interestedly. "And you were all on your own? That's so brave."_ _

__"Brave?" Daniel shrugged, uncomfortable with that description. "Not like I was flying a big rainbow flag. I wasn't trying to rock the boat. But I was out to everyone who mattered. Parents and family and my best friends, that kind of thing."_ _

__Marc shot a look at Jon that Daniel couldn't decipher, and Jon reached out to throw an arm over Marc's shoulder, hugging him closer. "How'd that go?" Marc asked, looking less annoyed by life in general with Jon snuggled up to his side._ _

__"Um," said Daniel, looking between the two men. "Good? I mean, mostly good."_ _

__He struggled to think what to say next. He'd come out his last year in high school, telling Alison first and then his middle brother Joseph when he came home to visit for a long weekend. Alison had squealed and hugged him and said she'd always known and she was so proud of him for telling her, and so honoured to be the first person he told, and a million other things besides, which was exactly what he expected and why he'd told her first. Joe, who was basically the poster boy for the stereotype of the strong, silent type, had just nodded, and hugged him, and then asked if their parents knew. In fact, his parents were among the last of the people close to him that Daniel told, but coming out to them had been the most memorable, in all the best ways._ _

__It had taken him a long time to think of the words he wanted to say. He'd printed off a dozen pages from websites about coming out at the library, snatching the paper off the printer as it emerged, terrified that someone would see the titles. He read it in the bathroom with the door locked. Of course, all the worry and preparation turned out to be for nothing. He'd stumbled through some of the words he'd prepared, and then his mom had just hugged him until his ribs creaked, murmuring some jumble of "thank you for telling us" and "we love you" and "we support you". It was his dad though, who had surprised Daniel. It wasn't that he thought his dad would be angry and hate him for it, but his dad was in the police force and Daniel had always known that attitudes there were maybe less flexible. And then too, his dad was the kind of guy who wouldn't discuss how he felt about things unless he was being beaten with sharp sticks, and maybe not even then. So it was a surprise when, once his mom had let him go in order to go call Daniel's brothers to talk to them after Daniel admitted his parents were the last to know, his dad had ushered him out onto the back porch. He had settled comfortably alongside Daniel on the old couch his dad kept there (over Daniel's mom's strenuous objections) and cracked open a bottle of beer._ _

__There had been a long moment of silence, and Daniel, who had started to relax, began to worry that his dad was working up to saying something that he thought Daniel wouldn't like._ _

__When his dad had broken the quiet moment at last, it was with the last thing Daniel ever expected._ _

__"Was it scary, telling us?" his dad had asked, and Daniel had had to think about how to answer that for a while before he spoke._ _

__"Kind of," he had said. "I didn't think it would be all, I don't know, casting me out into the snow or anything. But I was scared you would be disappointed or something, or that maybe with your work, that you would wish I wasn't."_ _

__There was another long pause. "I don't wish that," his dad had said, looking down at his hands. Daniel couldn't put a word to the way his dad sounded, except that it wasn't a way he'd heard his dad sound before. "I wish you hadn't been scared. I wish you had known, a hundred percent, that we were going to be okay with it, with whoever you turn out to be, no matter what. We're so proud of you. _I'm_ so proud of you."_ _

__Daniel hadn't known what to say to that, though he had made a few incoherent noises to try to say that no, he had, he was, that he'd always known, really, that nothing bad would happen when he told his parents._ _

__His dad had just smiled at him. "I was kind of scared too," he'd said. Daniel had frozen in surprise . "That I wouldn't say the right thing when you told us. I would lie awake sometimes and think about what I would say, try to think of the right thing."_ _

__"You knew? You were waiting...?" Daniel had said, then he had stopped, reached out to hug his dad. "You said the right thing, Dad. This is the right thing."_ _

__His dad had nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to Daniel's hair. "Good," he said. He squeezed Daniel hard for a minute, the cold bottle of beer pressing damply against Daniel's back. "Good. I'm glad."_ _

__After a moment they had sat back, and Daniel's dad took a hasty drink of his beer, and Daniel stared out at the backyard, at the grass nobody had had time to cut yet and the rope swing hanging crookedly from the tree, the one that his dad had put up for his eldest brother Stuart when Daniel was three or four, and that Daniel's middle brother Joe had fallen off and broken his arm when Daniel was eight. They sat there in silence for a while longer, and then Daniel's mom came out, and wanted to ask a million questions: was he dating? was he going to go to prom? did people at school know? Daniel had answered as best he could (no, probably not, a few people, just Jay and Trevor and Alison, his closest friends) and had found himself leaning against his dad, who was drinking his beer silently, glad all over again that this was his family._ _

__"Mostly good?" Marc asked, jolting Daniel back to the present. "But not all?"_ _

__Daniel nodded. "My family were great, my mom and my dad, and my brothers, and you know, it's not like I didn't think they would be, even though my dad and my brother Joe are in law enforcement. And two of my friends were great, but I told one guy, my friend Jay. I think we made friends the second day at kindergarten, but by the time I left to come to Vancouver it was like I never existed to him."_ _

__Jon looked sympathetic. "Homophobic?" he said, and he rubbed Marc's arm when he seemed to shiver. "Did he make things hard for you?"_ _

__"No," Daniel said, automatically. He'd been making excuses for Jay for over a year now to Trevor and Alison, and the denial sprang to his lips immediately. "I don't think so, anyway. I think it was something else. When I told him, he seemed really shocked, but like I said, we'd known each other forever. If my parents knew, and Trev and Alison knew, I don't think he couldn't know. But he just said something, mumbled something really, about God's plan for us, and time and forgiveness, and I don't know." Daniel shrugged helplessly. "It was really weird, because..."_ _

__He paused and looked at Jon and Marc. He'd never said this, not even to Alison in all their hundreds of conversations deconstructing what was wrong with Jay to make him act like that. He hadn't dared say it to her, in case he was wrong. But these guys didn't know Jay, would never meet him. "It was weird because, you know I said I had never really met anyone else who was gay--"_ _

__"Ah," said Jon, stretching out the syllable as he got it. "You thought he was."_ _

__"I thought... something. I don't know what I thought. I had these ideas in my head about how he would react," Daniel said. "I'm not sure any more what I was thinking. I mean, he had girlfriends. Several girlfriends."_ _

__"That doesn't mean anything," said Marc, dryly. "Believe me. I had several girlfriends."_ _

__"He had more than one at once, with a whole school cafeteria revelation about his two-timing ways and a slap fight," Jon said, grinning. Marc looked annoyed again, but said nothing when Jon squeezed his shoulders. "I can't even imagine how he faked it all that time."_ _

__Marc rolled his eyes and addressed Daniel again. "You thought he was gay?"_ _

__"Yeah. No. Maybe, " said Daniel. "Like I said, I don't know. I just thought Jay would be fine with it, more than fine, and I wondered if Trevor would freak out, but in the end Trevor just laughed and told me he'd known for years, and Jay started acting squirrelly and weird and finally stopped talking to me about four months later."_ _

__***************_ _

__NOTE: Some random bits from the middle of the story:_ _

__[Daniel's work study at the library, seeing Xav around]_ _

__

__Daniel took to watching him, enjoying the way the guy's face would scrunch up in thought, the frequent smearing of ink across his forehead and cheekbone, the way he would half curl up on his library chair like a cat, as if the torturous position that put his spine in was totally comfortable and normal. He never saw his library boy with anyone else, not a friend or a study partner or anyone, and Daniel was half worried that the guy was a loner, or a loser, or both._ _

__

__[with David]_ _

__It wasn't as obvious when you saw them separately, but standing next to each other, they were obviously brothers. They had the same chin, the same smile. David though was built more heavily, while Xav was leaner, a little taller. Xav's hair was several shades darker than David's mousey pale brown, and his eyes were bluer._ _

__[Getting to know the family]_ _

__Daniel couldn't understand how David, who had, after all, lived with the couple for the majority of his life, could have it all so wrong. The danger wasn't that Rudy Miller would dislike him: Rudy Miller's reaction to most people in the world except his husband and his kids varied between indifference and profound loathing, averaging out somewhere around mild dislike. Rudy was insanely protective of the people he loved and possessive of his husband in a way that Daniel probably shouldn't find attractive, and he rarely spared so much as a pleasant thought for anyone else. Mike Webster, on the other hand, was cheerful, gregarious and friendly, the kind of guy everyone on his street knew and thought of affectionately for his open and honest nature, his readily extended helping hand, and his genuine concern for other people. He was also the most astute judge of character Daniel had ever met. He didn't think Xav and David even realized how often they started a sentence with "Mike says...", how openly they relied on his judgement and opinions. Even their stories about their crazy household and Rudy Miller's bad influence on the family, the neighbourhood and the entire province of British Columbia seemed to be, in the end, stories about Mike's role in all of their lives, how much they trusted and needed and leaned on Mike. It was going to be Mike, not Rudy, who Daniel had to convince that he was good enough to be allowed into Xav's life._ _

__***************_ _

__AND THEN MOST OF THE EPILOGUE WHEN EVERYONE IS ALL GROWN UP:_ _

__"It's the universe's way of balancing out everything that was given to Rudy," Faith said, grinning at Daniel. "All the looks and the talent and the physical grace and that single-minded focus he has. Which, by the way, can you imagine _that_ in bed, holy _crap_."_ _

__She paused for a moment, looking like she was really, seriously thinking about that for a moment, and Daniel just blinked at her. Finally, Faith flapped her hand as if waving away a stubborn insect. "Anyway, where was I? Yes, the universe created Rudy, and then went, crap, you know, this guy is going to rule the world if we leave him to it, we'd better give him something to keep him busy so he doesn't like, accidentally dismantle the planet in his quest for world domination. So they made sweet, unassuming Mike Webster for him, and Rudy has spent every day since wondering what Mike needs and wants and deserves. And what Mike wants, Rudy gets for him."_ _

__She sighed suddenly. "I don't know if that's more romantic or scary," she said. "It's probably a good thing that what Mike wants is his husband and a home and a family and a job where he makes a difference and not like, whatever, diamonds and... and... yachts." She gestured with her beer expansively. "I think Rudy could easily have gone all CEO or Master Criminal on us or run the Mafia or something. Jetsetting superstar. Though I suppose he was kind of that when he did the running thing."_ _

__"Rudy's family was originally German, I think, not Italian," said Mike, from the steps. He sounded amused, but Faith's face was frozen in shock, and Daniel doubted his was any better. "I don't know whether they have an equivalent to the Mafia."_ _

__He walked up the steps onto the deck and took the beer Faith was holding from her unresisting hand. "David was looking for you," he said. "I think maybe he was going to watch a movie."_ _

__"A movie," Faith started, and then she paused and cleared her throat. "Yeah, that sounds great, I'll just go join him."_ _

__She stood up, and Mike steadied her when she wobbled on her feet. "Maybe one beer too many," she said, with something like dignity. "I think my knees are drunk."_ _

__Mike nodded seriously. "I know that feeling. Of course, Rudy would tell you that my second beer is the one too many," he said, grinning at her. "David was in the family room when I went past."_ _

__"Great," she said. "Uh, see you later."_ _

__Daniel waved his own beer bottle at her, and then buried his smile by taking a sip as she left the gazebo, walking carefully to offset her drunken knees, and headed back towards the house._ _

__Mike was still grinning and watching her walk away when Daniel broke the silence: "What movie are they watching?"_ _

__In the distance, the back door clanged shut, and Mike turned back to him and shrugged. "They were still arguing about it when I left," he said. He set down Faith's empty bottle and picked up another from the six-pack Faith had brought out with her to the deck. "Was this an escape from the in-laws, or do you mind if I join you?"_ _

__"No, of course you can," Daniel said. "We weren't escaping, I wanted to give Xav some time with his brothers."_ _

__Mike smiled at him. "I don't think there's any moment of his life Xav doesn't want you to be part of, even when he's with his brothers," he said, but he nodded._ _

__Daniel grinned back, and then, feeling embarrassed by how much that meant to him, took another sip of beer. They sat there for a while, talking about this and that and steadily working their way through the beer Faith had brought out with her._ _

__"Do you really think that?" Mike said suddenly, in a comfortable silence that had fallen. He was sprawled out now on the lounger Faith had vacated, and his cheeks were pink and flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded, his hair ruffled. Daniel took one moment to reflect on the way Mike looked at that moment and then hastily dismissed it from his mind. Rudy's mind-reading skills were all too frighteningly acute at times when it came to people thinking things he didn't approve of about Mike Webster._ _

__"Do I think what?" he said, recalling his wandering wits when Mike asked the question again._ _

__"About Rudy," said Mike, flushing even more._ _

__"Er, which part?" said Daniel. He was a little bit drunk, but he still wasn't about to admit to his de facto father-in-law that he very much suspected that Faith was right about what Rudy's combination of grace, athleticism and his laser-like focus on making Mike happy must be like in the bedroom, or even that he'd thought about it for long enough to form an opinion, although _obviously_ he had. It was hard not to when Mike at least exuded the kind of vibes Daniel usually associated with honeymooners. Rudy probably would too, except that Rudy seemed to have dedicated his life to being inscrutable._ _

__"About Rudy being a jet-setting Master Criminal," Mike said, breaking into his thoughts, fortunately. He paused and then asked suspiciously: "Why, what else was she saying?"_ _

__"Um, I don't remember," Daniel lied. "And yeah, I think Rudy could do anything, really, if he put his mind to it. He's that kind of guy."_ _

__Mike hummed thoughtfully. "I guess," he said, after a moment. "The thing is though, you guys don't see it, but Rudy likes to be home too. He's not really the type. He likes being here, with us, with me." He waved a hand at the house. "He'd hate for me to tell you, but he gets so homesick. Always has done."_ _

__"Why, if you think I'd hate for you to tell him, are you telling him that?," Rudy's silky smooth voice broke in. He stood at the base of the steps, with the faintest shade of exasperation on his face as he took in the sight of his flushed and rumpled husband, the empty beer bottles and Daniel._ _

__"Eep!" yelped Mike, taken by surprise, and the dregs of the beer he was holding spilled down his shirt. "Rudy, geez, you should wear a bell."_ _

__Rudy ignored him. "Are you to blame for this?" he asked Daniel, walking up into the gazebo. He picked up the empty six pack carrier and then looked at Mike._ _

__Daniel unhesitatingly threw Faith to the wolves. "No, it's was Faith's beer," he said. "That's only his second though."_ _

__Rudy just looked at him. Daniel fidgeted in his seat._ _

__Luckily, Rudy was distracted by Mike, who was squirming around apparently trying to take his shirt and sweater off. "Mike, is there a reason why you're trying to strip off in front of our son-in-law?" Rudy enquired, after taking a moment to observe Mike's futile struggle with his clothes. "At your advanced age, I assure you that you have nothing he wants to see."_ _

__Daniel laughed, but hastily turned it into a cough when Rudy turned his impassive look on him once more._ _

__"My sweater was all wet with beer, but now I'm stuck," said Mike, from within the folds of his sweater. "Also, you can't call my age advanced without insulting yourself. I'm only two months older than you! And _also_ that is so very much not what you said last-- Eep!"_ _

__With ruthless efficiency Rudy extracted Mike from his sweater, smoothed down Mike's shirt, and generally restored him to order. Mike emerged from the manoeuvre looking more dishevelled than ever. "There's no need to be rough," Mike said, with ruffled dignity. He attempted to smooth down his hair._ _

__Rudy looked at him. "Also not what _you_ said last--", he started, silkily. _ _

__"Well, will you look at the time?" Mike said, loudly, with a frantic glance at Daniel. He stood up rather unsteadily. "I should go start dinner."_ _

__Rudy put his hands on his hips. "If you think I am letting you near knives in this condition," he said, "You are even more inebriated than I thought. I'll wake David up and you can supervise him."_ _

__Mike began to protest, but Rudy simply caught his arm and started to walk him back to the house. "Xav is looking for you," he told Daniel, one arm wrapping around Mike, who was still grumbling complaints beside him. "I'll send him out to you."_ _

__"Thank you," Daniel called after them. Rudy raised a hand without turning around._ _

__The back door had no sooner closed behind them than it opened again and Xav came out into the garden, heading straight for him with a smile on his face. Daniel caught hold of his hand and pulled him down to perch on the edge of Daniel's lounger, kissing him lightly to say hello. "Movie over?" he asked._ _

__Xav made a face. "Eh, everyone was dying in it, I left. David was asleep with Faith on the sofa anyway and Andy went to make a phone call."_ _

__Daniel smiled up at Xav, and tugged him until he lay down alongside Daniel. They spent a pleasant few minutes kissing, Xav snuggling up close to Daniel._ _

__Once Xav felt like he'd been kissed enough to make up for the movie full of death, he looked around the gazebo. "Who were you out here drinking with?" he asked, catching sight of the beer bottles._ _

__"Faith at first, and then Mike," Daniel told him._ _

__Xav looked at him with amusement. "Is Mike drunk? Rudy will be pissed at you if he is."_ _

__"He is," sighed Daniel. "Two beers and he was gone. But Rudy....Rudy called me his son-in-law."_ _

__Xav started to laugh at Daniel's words, but then stopped and blinked. "He did?" he said, astonished. "That's.... that's big. You know that, right?"_ _

__"I know," said Daniel, grinning. "Though it's possible he only said it to distract me from Mike taking his clothes off."_ _

__Xav blinked some more. "You had a very interesting afternoon," Xav told him, after a moment._ _

__"Typical day with your adoptive parents," Daniel said._ _

__Xav laughed. "Well, that's true," he said. "There's a reason the three of us almost never brought anyone home to meet the family. Though they had a way of engineering a meeting with Andy and David's girlfriends. Oh, and that one guy David dated."_ _

__"David dated guys?" Daniel said, astonished. "I didn't know that! How did I not know that?"_ _

__Xav shrugged. "He's mostly into girls," he said. "Very into girls."_ _

__"You can say that again!" Daniel said, rolling his eyes. In their college days he'd been trapped more than once into drunken conversation with David that left him entirely too knowledgeable about how into girls David was._ _

__"I'm not sure how many other guys he even dated or even, you know, hooked up with," said Xav, looking thoughtful. "Maybe he was just gay for Paul. To be honest, even Andy was kind of gay for Paul though. He was that kind of guy."_ _

__"Really?" said Daniel, amused._ _

__"Oh yeah," said Xav, sounding dreamily reminiscent. "I had kind of a gigantic crush on him. So hot, and the sweetest guy ever."_ _

__Daniel poked him in the stomach. "I'm right here," he said, pretending to frown, and Xav started to laugh, which turned somehow into kissing again._ _

__"Do you guys ever come up for air?" David interrupted, some time later. He sounded disgruntled. "I've been standing here for ages."_ _

__Daniel let go of Xav. "Enjoying the show?" he asked, and Xav giggled against his neck._ _

__David made a face. "Ugh, like I want to watch my twin kissy-facing with you," he said. "I came out to tell you dinner is almost ready."_ _

__"Kissy-facing!" Xav laughed, sitting up. "What are you, twelve?"_ _

__"And now that I know your secret, you can't ever complain about me and your brother again," said Daniel, theatrically, and then laughed when David looked genuinely alarmed and darted a look between Daniel and Xav._ _

__"Oh, not that," said Xav, sunnily. He stood up and put out a hand to haul Daniel to his feet. Daniel let him, but only because he was so taken aback at the idea that David really did have a deep dark secret worthy of that reaction._ _

__David meanwhile, looked, if anything, even more alarmed. "What then?" he demanded._ _

__Xav started towards the house and Daniel, perforce, followed. "I was telling Daniel about when you brought Paul home to meet Mike and Rudy," he said._ _

__David's expression cleared, and then visibly softened. "Paul! Oh my god, I haven't thought about him in ages," he said. "I wonder what happened to him."_ _

__Xav pushed the screen door open and they trooped into the kitchen. Rudy was leaning, arms crossed, against the kitchen counter keeping watch over dinner, the final preparations for which seemed to have fallen to a harassed looking Andy. Mike was upright, or mostly upright anyway, leaning heavily against Rudy with his arms slung loosely around Rudy's waist and his head on Rudy's shoulder. Faith and Emily were sitting at the kitchen table looking amused._ _

__"Haven't thought about who in ages?" Mike asked, half-turning his head to look at them as they came in._ _

__"Paul Richfield," said David. "Do you remember, I dated him in, what, eleventh grade?"_ _

__"Oh, Paul!" Mike said, breaking into a wide smile. "He has to be my favourite of all your high school romances. He was adorable."_ _

__Andy nodded, and even Rudy's expression warmed up almost imperceptibly._ _

__"Wow," said Faith, grinning. "I'm pretty sure nobody was this enthusiastic about me when we got together."_ _

__David laughed, and went over to drop a kiss on her hair before moving away to set the table. "He really was kind of amazing," he said, cheerfully. "I wonder what happened to him."_ _

__"Oh! I know this one!" Mike said, excitedly, and Daniel almost expected him to raise his hand like he was at school. Everyone stared at Mike. He blinked back at them._ _

__"Well?" said David._ _

__"Do you actually know or are you just drunk?" asked Rudy._ _

__Mike sniffed with wounded dignity. "I'm not _drunk_ ," he said, though he made no move to stop using Rudy as a prop. "Tipsy, at most. Anyway. Paul. He's a paediatrician. I met him at that conference in Victoria a few months ago. He asked me to give you all his regards, but I totally forgot because when I came back it was crazy chicken pox time at the clinic and I didn't sit down for a week. He's specializing in paediatric oncology. He told me that I was one of his role models."_ _

__Mike sighed happily and Xav, David and Andy looked very much struck by this revelation. Daniel found himself making eye contact with Rudy and had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing._ _

__"Of course he saves small children from cancer," sighed Faith. "Does he rescue kittens from trees as well?"_ _

__"Probably," said Andy, laughing at her. "He truly was the best date David ever brought home before you. Nobody could quite see what he saw in David."_ _

__Everyone looked at David critically, who made a sort of wordless protesting noise but carried on laying out spoons on the placemats he'd put out._ _

__"Anyway," said Andy. "Everyone was really sorry when they broke up."_ _

__"Why _did_ you break up?" Mike asked, curiously. "You would never tell me at the time."_ _

__"You all practically went into mourning when we broke up," David said. "I didn't like to tell you."_ _

__"Well, now you have to tell us," said Xav. "Even Rudy's curious."_ _

__Everyone turned to look at Rudy, who merely raised an eyebrow at them. "Well, _we_ all are, anyway," said Xav._ _

__"He was just so annoyingly _perfect_ ," said David, sheepishly. "After a while I couldn't take it."_ _

__Andy dropped the wooden spoon he was holding. "Are you kidding me? What's wrong with you? You broke up with the hottest, nicest guy ever because he was _too perfect/i >?"__ _

___"Something you want to tell me, Andy?" Emily said, eying her husband._ _ _

___Faith was giggling. "Well, at least he taught you that thing with your tongue while he was being too perfect," she said._ _ _

___Everyone swung around to stare at David, who turned crimson and covered his face with his hands. "Why do I ever tell anyone anything?" he asked, despairingly._ _ _

___"I don't want to know about David's tongue," said Mike, firmly. He waved a hand at David. "What do you mean you broke up with him because he was annoyingly perfect? He was... well, he was _perfect_. He was still pretty perfect when I saw him again."_ _ _

___Daniel saw Rudy tense, just a little, and his arms uncrossed and wrapped around Mike._ _ _

___"He was just. He had that smile, and the looks, and the grades, and he played tennis, and oh my god, I couldn't live up to all of that," said David, still pink. "Even his hair was _always_ perfect."_ _ _

___"Not any more," Mike said. Even though he'd barely moved, he was tucked up even more cosily against Rudy, somehow, the two of them like a single unit. Mike smothered a yawn in Rudy's t-shirt. Rudy looked unmoved, but one hand stroked little circles on Mike's lower back._ _ _

___"What do you mean?" asked David._ _ _

___Mike gestured at his head. "Bald, mostly," he said, to a general outcry. "Still very cute though, if you like that sort of thing."_ _ _

___It was obvious from the expressions around the room that the Heath brothers didn't like that sort of thing._ _ _

___"Ah, hair loss. The great leveller," said Rudy, with the barest hint of smugness. Another man, Daniel thought, would be running their fingers through his still thick hair. Mike made an amused noise._ _ _

___"If we're done talking about my ex-boyfriend, bald or not," said David, "Is dinner ready? I'm starving."_ _ _


End file.
